It's Nothing To Do With Biscuits
by CTMfan-13
Summary: Series 5 AU.
1. Chapter 1

It's Nothing To Do With Biscuits

Shelagh Turner groaned, rolling over in bed once again as the sun was beginning to make its appearance through the bedroom window.

"Are you all right?" came the sleepy voice of her husband.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. What's the matter?" He asked, starting to sit up.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it's bothering you, sweetheart."

"I just...can't get comfortable."

"Why not?" He took a good look at his wife, dark circles prevalent under her eyes. "Love, did you get any sleep at all?"

"It's embarrassing."

"Shelagh. I'm your husband, and a doctor. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

She sighed. "I'm just...very uncomfortable. And my stomach is upset and every time I move I can't find a good position to lie in. I must be due for my cycle is all."

"When was your last?" Patrick asked her. He couldn't for the life of him remember.

And it seemed neither could Shelagh.

"I've no idea."

"Shelagh!"

"Patrick, we have two very active children, I can barely remember their appointments plus ours, my cycles aren't that important. Besides, they come and go as they please...whether they show up or not is irrelevant."

"Come here."

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his side and began running light circles on the silky fabric covering her abdomen.

"Does that help?"

Shelagh closed her eyes and leaned her head into her husband's arm.

"Actually...yes." She sighed, feeling herself lulled into a comforting half-sleep as her husband continued.

Patrick continued for several minutes, desperate to give his wife some relief until he suddenly felt a movement beneath his palm.

"See dearest? My stomach has been doing that for days." She groaned to herself. "Must be all those biscuits. I really need to cut down."

Patrick chuckled, but continued to feel his way around her navel carefully so as not to give away his examination.

"Shelagh?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't think it's your cycle...or the biscuits for that matter."

"Then what is it?"

Patrick swallowed thickly, not fully convinced of his own medical opinion.

"Well, considering...your symptoms...I'd say it's a baby."

Shelagh's eyes shot open and stared at her husband.

"Patrick, don't be ridiculous. That's not funny."

"I'm not laughing."

She fixed him with a watery glare. "You know as well as I do that it's not possible."

"Love, give me your hand."

He took her hand in his, pressing them to her belly and waited. Nothing.

"Patrick..."

"Watch." He pressed again, a bit more to the right and within a moment felt a movement in response. "See?"

"You mean...all this time..."

"Our child has been trying to get your attention." He smiled at her dreamily, both of them in a state of shock as they turned heir gaze to her belly.

"Well they certainly have it now..." she breathed as they both felt another movement beneath their hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Biscuits 2

"Wait here!" Patrick jumped out of bed with the spring of a much younger man and tore off down the hallway for his medical bag. Coming back to the bedroom, he took in the sight of his wife lying back amongst the pillows, her hand across her abdomen and a look of disbelief on her face.

"Here. Let's see the belly." Patrick sat on the edge of the bed as he opened his medical bag and took out his stethoscope.

"Patrick...I-"

But Patrick was already pulling her nightgown over her abdomen, placing his stethoscope next to her navel.

"Oh! You could have at least warmed that, dearest."

"Shh." Patrick hushed her, a look of concentration on his face before he paused in moving the metal around his wife's stomach and a bright smile bloomed across his face. "Oh, Shelagh. Listen."

He handed the earpieces over to her, as he held the stethoscope in place and watched as the tears his wife had been holding back finally sprung free as she listened.

He gathered her into his arms, letting her tears of happiness mingle with his own. As he felt her breathing slowly return to normal, he pulled back from their embrace, peppering kisses over her face before landing on her lips.

"I love you." Shelagh breathed through her tears.

"I love you too."

"Oh, Patrick. How did this happen?"

"Well...I can't be sure. It was probably when-"

"No, I didn't mean that! I mean...I'm not-I can't..."

"The body is a wonderful thing, Shelagh. Sometimes it can heal itself. We don't know how or why, it just happens. We should consider ourselves lucky."

She nodded. "We should get up. Busy day at the surgery today."

"Shelagh, relax. We've got time before the children wake up." He stilled her hands from the bedclothes. "Sweetheart, you do realize you'll need a proper examination. Preferably today...if possible."

"Not at the clinic. Please, Patrick. I don't want to tell many people yet. Can't we keep it between us for a while?"

"Are you unhappy about this, Shelagh?"

"Of course not! I'm so unbelievably happy about this baby...its just in case. You understand don't you?"

"Of course I do. How about I have someone come to the surgery? I'm sure Sister Julienne would be glad to -"

"Ask for Trixie, please. I trust her to keep this in confidence. I'll go and start breakfast."

Patrick headed to the phone in the hallway, dialing the familiar number, and trying not to think of his wife's curt response.

 _"Nonnatus House, midwife speaking."_

"Good morning, Nurse Gilbert. May I speak with Nurse Franklin, please?"

Within moments the phone was handed over and the chipper voice of Trixie Franklin came over the line.

"Nurse Franklin, could you pop over to the surgery this morning before clinic? I've a patient who has requested you."

 _"Absolutely. Who's the patient?"_

"One who trusts you to be discreet. Shall we say nine o'clock?"

 _"See you then, Doctor."_

Patrick hung up and followed the sound from down the hall as Angela started whining to get out of her cot. "Good morning, my angel. Did you sleep well?" Angela, like her father, was not a morning person, so instead of a reply, she merely rested against his shoulder as he carried her to her high chair in the kitchen.

He stopped and stared at his wife, her eyes focused on cooking breakfast, but her hand running across her abdomen constantly and mind elsewhere. It took a moment for Shelagh to realize her husband had entered the kitchen, but once she did, she graced him with the most radiant smile neither of them could remember seeing for some time.

"Oh, Patrick..."

"I know." He replied, coming up behind her and wrapping her in a hug. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

Biscuits 3

At nine o'clock on the dot, Trixie Franklin arrived at the surgery.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Ah, Nurse Franklin. Good morning. I appreciate your coming in."

"Of course. Although, you never said which patient on the phone earlier."

"Yes, well...we would appreciate that this patient stay confidential for the time being. No notes at Nonnatus, at least not just yet, you understand?"

"Of course...Doctor Turner? Is everything all right?"

Patrick beamed at her. "Very much so, Nurse." He stood from his desk and ushered her towards the attached exam room. Opening the door, they were both rewarded with a view of Shelagh sitting on top of the exam table, her legs swinging nervously in a habit she'd picked up from Timothy.

"Good morning, Nurse Franklin." Shelagh smiled politely at one of her oldest colleagues, trying not to laugh at the flustered look spreading across Trixie's face.

"Shelagh!? Are you-"

The smile on Shelagh's face grew wide in intensity as Trixie tried to recover, but instead ran over and gave her a hug.

"Oh, Shelagh! That's wonderful!"

"Right then...I'll leave you to it." Came the belated response from Patrick watching as his wife laid down on the table and Trixie began her examination. Catching Shelagh's eye as he closed the door, he couldn't help but wink at her and delighted in the blush that colored her cheeks.

"Well, Mrs. Turner," Trixie giggled at the formality, "it seems as though you're just on target for about seventeen weeks. But considering you can't remember your last cycle it could be a bit more than that. I'd estimate delivery in about four months, give or take a week."

Shelagh smiled as she sat up on the exam table, trying to right her blouse as best she could. "Seventeen weeks...that's second trimester."

"Quite. I can't believe you didn't tell us! Sister Julienne will be over the moon-"

Trixie continued prattling on, not noticing Shelagh's face blanche.

"Actually, Nurse Franklin. We, um...only realized this morning. Other than Doctor Turner and myself, you're the only one who knows- and we'd like to keep it that way for now. Please."

Trixie nodded, noticing the propriety in which she was addressed and the distressed look on Shelagh's face.

"Is everything alright? You can tell me-I promise I won't say anything..."

"It's just that, things are strange right now, that's all." Shelagh tried to downplay her feelings.

"With Sister Julienne? I'm not trying to be nosy, but I've noticed things aren't quite right between you two."

"Has everyone?"

Trixie shook her head as she sat down next to Shelagh. "I don't think so. I think because I've known you both for so long, I can see that things aren't quite the same."

Shelagh sighed. She'd known Trixie for years, had watched her grow in her skills as both a nurse and a midwife. She considered her to be a friend, she could tell her.

"Since discussions about the contraceptive pill, things have been...tense. With all the talk about morals and the Church, now with this news, things will get even more cloudy I'm afraid."

"Why? You and Doctor Turner are married, how could that cloud things up?"

Shelagh felt uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation but knew it would be easier to explain to Trixie than to her husband.

"Trixie...I'm not supposed to be able to have children. The fact that I'm pregnant-having known of my infertility-makes any actions on our part that led us here purely...recreational."

"It's an act of love, Shelagh. And I've never known two people more in love that you and your husband."

"But-"

"And no offense, but you're not a part of the Order anymore. You don't have to conform to their standards. I know how you feel about Sister Julienne's opinion, but that doesn't mean she's right. Have you discussed this with Doctor Turner?"

"No. He's so excited, I don't want to upset him."

Trixie scowled. "Aren't you excited?"

"Oh, I couldn't be more thrilled! But-"

"No buts, Shelagh! This is a wonderful thing. I may not be the best person to give relationship advice, seeing as my last crashed and burned but, if there's one thing I know it's that love is the most important bit. If you've got that, there's nothing else to worry about."

"When did you get so wise, Trixie?"

"I've always been this wise-the bombshell act just hides my true identity." Trixie winked at her, helping her friend to climb off the table.

"How can I thank you?"

"Well, you could always name baby after me if its a girl..."

Shelagh chuckled, lifting her eyebrows as she spoke. "Trixie Turner?"

Joining her laughter, Trixie and Shelagh dissolved into giggles as Patrick knocked on the door.

"Better yet, perhaps not." Trixie laughed as she opened the door to Patrick.

"Everything alright in here?"

"Yes dear, Trixie was just helping to brainstorm baby names." Shelagh said with a straight face before they both burst out laughing again.


	4. Chapter 4

Biscuits 4

Two weeks later, Sister Winifred descended upon Patrick as he entered the clinics double doors.

"Doctor? Is Mrs. Turner with you? We expected her earlier to set up the intake table but she hasn't arrived."

"Oh, Sister! My apologies, I was supposed to call you this morning. Shelagh's I'll and won't be coming in today. Is Nurse Franklin here yet?"

"She's in the kitchen, Doctor Turner." Nurse Crane said as she passed by. "I'll have Sister Julienne mind the intake table until Nurse Gilbert arrives from her calls."

"Thank you, Nurse Crane." Patrick nodded his head at her and made his way into the kitchen, looking around before he spoke. "Trixie?"

Unused to hearing her given name at the clinic, Trixie whipped around wide-eyed and alert.

"Is everything all right, Doctor Turner?"

"It's Shelagh. She's been ill all night, I've only just gotten her to sleep before I got here. Mrs. Penny is with Angela and she's staying late until I get through at the surgery, but I was wondering if you could stop by and check on her. I pushed back my rounds this morning, but I won't be able to stop after the clinic."

"Poor thing! Is it a tummy bug? I didn't think there was anything going around."

"No, it's...ahem, been happening every morning but never like this. I practically had to carry her to bed."

"That should have passed by now, poor Shelagh. As soon as I finish my patient list, I'll go over."

"Thank you, Nurse Franklin. She'll appreciate the company, I think."

Trixie looked around before continuing the conversation.

"She still won't tell anyone?"

Patrick shook his head, dejected.

"No. She refuses to say anything to the sisters, even after we had a conversation about her concerns. It took me forever to get her to tell Timothy and Mrs. Penny. I don't know how much longer she thinks we can keep things quiet, she's practically showing and her clothes can't hide it forever."

"I'll see if I can get her to talk to me later. How did Timothy take the news?"

Patrick smiled broadly. "He's thrilled. I can't tell who's more excited, us or him. He-"

Patrick watched Trixie's eyes widen, and realized why as Sister Julienne walked past the kitchen.

"Ah, there you are Nurse Franklin. Nurse Crane has your list."

"Thank you, Sister." Trixie nodded at Patrick as she walked past him and he made his way to the kitchen hook where his coat was hanging.

"Doctor Turner?"

Whipping around, he was surprised to find Sister Julienne was still in the kitchen.

"Is Shelagh all right? Sister Winifred and Nurse Crane inform me that she won't be here today, which is most unlike her."

Patrick had to stop himself from telling her. Shelagh would be so upset with him if he did, but he knew deep down that the nun standing in front of him would have nothing but happiness and congratulatory wishes at their news.

"She's a bit under the weather today? sister. Neither of us felt she should come in today, just in case she's contagious." Patrick hoped that God would forgive that little white lie.

"Poor dear. Would you like me to do anything? Check in on her? Take care of Angela? I haven't seen her in quite a few weeks, so it would be no trouble."

Patrick knew he was on the verge of spilling the beans. It wasn't like Shelagh- this need to hide the truth- and it was affecting her more than he thought. If Sister Julienne hadn't seen Angela in weeks, that meant that Shelagh wasn't going to Nonnatus for tea on Wednesdays as she had since the day they'd brought Angela home.

"Thank you, Sister. Angela is with Mrs. Penny while Shelagh rests for the day and Nurse Franklin is due to pop in this afternoon, but I do appreciate your offer."

With that, he left the room. If he had to look into the face of the woman his wife trusted above all others and lie to her again, he'd immediately betray Shelagh's wishes and tell her everything. He made a mental promise to talk to Shelagh when he got home that evening. This had to stop. Either she told people, or he would.

Starting tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Biscuits 5

"Patrick! Just leave it alone!"

"Shelagh, we can't leave it alone any longer! Look at yourself." He grabbed her shoulders as she tried to walk out of their bedroom. Turning her to face the mirror on her vanity, he positioned her body to face it side on.

"Shelagh. You're showing. Your uniform can't hide it anymore. Our baby wants to make its presence known. There's no more keeping it a secret, sweetheart." His voice softened as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Oh..." Shelagh's face transformed from outrage to disbelief. "This is the first time it's felt real, Patrick. There's no denying it, is there? We really can tell people now."

Patrick covered her hand with his own and squeezed her fingers in thanks.

"Everyone is going to be thrilled, Shelagh. I promise you."

"You shouldn't make promises, Patrick. You're a doctor, you should know better." He watched as her eyebrows furrowed together before she continued speaking. "Can I ask you a favor, Patrick?"

"Anything. Name it and it's yours."

Biting her lip, she caught his gaze in the mirror. "Will you be the one to tell the Sisters? I can't -"

"Of course I can. Do you want me to go today?"

"Yes, but first go and wake up your son. He'll sleep right through breakfast if he doesn't get a move on."

Patrick leaned down to kiss his wife, an action she responded to with vigor. As he made to leave the room, he caught a glimpse of his wife admiring herself in the mirror and whispering to her bump.

"Well, little one...it's a good thing we're telling everyone about you today. Now that you're out and about, what is Mummy going to wear,hmm?"

After breakfast, Patrick made the familiar journey to Nonnatus House and rang the bell. As if Fate were on his side, Sister Julienne just happened to be the one to answer the door.

"Doctor Turner! Good morning, you're here awfully early. Is all well?"

"Yes, Sister." Patrick couldn't help but smile. "But I was hoping you had a few moments to discuss some things?"

"I have calls, but they're not pressing. Come in. Shall we go to my office?"

Without waiting for him to answer, she ushered him inside and led him down the hallway. The new convent wasn't as familiar to him as the old Nonnatus, but the comforting feeling of its occupants was the same. Shutting the office door behind himself, he sat across from Sister Julienne at her desk, hands clasped and rapt with attention.

" I take it this discussion may come as a bit of a shock, Sister."

"Is this about a patient?"

"Yes, but in a more personal sense." Watching as the nuns face fell, he quickly continued. "Everything is fine, Sister. I can assure you."

"Shelagh's expecting." He blurted out a little more bluntly than he'd wanted.

"Expecting?"

"Yes. She's nearing twenty weeks." He felt his smile widen uncontrollably.

"You're right, this is a shock."

"It came as quite a surprise to us as well."

"I didn't know she'd been back to Harley Street. Did Mr. Horringer see her again?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, I'm surprised neither of you told me she was having a procedure. But, considering the amount of medical breakthroughs happening lately, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised they've-"

"Sister? We haven't been to Harley Street. I don't believe Ted is even in Great Britain anymore."

Julienne's eyes widened. "So this pregnancy..."

"Is a completely natural occurrence."

"I see." She said curtly, and Patrick noticed her demeanor change immediately.

"Sister?"

"So, what you're saying is that you were still intimate, even knowing that a child was impossible?"

"Obviously not impossible, but yes." Patrick responded, feeling extremely awkward talking about his sex life with his wife's former superior. Julienne simply nodded, but didn't make to continue speaking.

"Please, Sister whatever you have to say, say it. I should very much like to hear it from you."

"I'm not sure what you expect me to say, Doctor."

"I had hoped something along the lines of congratulations would suffice. But that's obviously not how you feel."

"You and Mrs. Turner engaged in an act which, though it has obviously resulted in a child, was at the time purely for recreational purposes.

Patrick was taken aback by that comment and fought to hold back the anger brewing within himself.

"Hardly a recreational purpose, Sister. She's my wife. We love each other. It's certainly not a crime to share that love in a physical way. I can see no reason that we shouldn't-"

"Exactly, Doctor Turner. You don't see."

"With all due respect, Sister. I'm not going to say I'm a man of faith, is be lying if I were. I'm a man of science, I leave the faith to Shelagh. But this pregnancy, I can't explain with science. It's a miracle. If anything, you should understand that."

"Your faith is not in question here, Doctor Turner. But your morals-"

"I'm sorry, Sister, but I have already heard your speech on morals and had to deal with its consequences by having my wife try to hide her pregnancy for over a month." He stood up, grabbing his hat from the floor next to his chair. "You'll have to excuse me, Sister. I can't sit here and listen to this anymore, because I'm afraid if I do, I will say something I regret."

Julienne stood up behind her desk. "If that's the way you feel."

Patrick shook his head as he moved toward the door. "I can see I have unnecessarily questioned my wife's judgement once again, but I can see she was right. Here I thought you would be happy for us. You've always been a part of our family, Sister. I'm sorry to know you feel this way. My apologies for disrupting your morning."

And with a final searing glance, he slammed the door behind him, leaving Nonnatus House.


	6. Chapter 6

Biscuits 6

The sound of the office door slamming reverberated throughout Nonnatus House. Patrick stood, still as a statue, in the hallway trying to calm himself from the altercation.

"Doctor?" 

Turning to his left, he saw Sister Mary Cynthia standing just down the corridor, a look of worry and concern evident on her face.

"Good morning, Sister. Sorry if I've disturbed you."

"You haven't, I was just on my way to the clinical room. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I was just headed home." Patrick started to walk away before turning back to her. "Actually, is Nurse Franklin here?"

"Everyone is in the clinical room for the morning list, I believe."

"Would you mind if I popped in for a moment?"

"Of course." She led the way down the hall to where the other nurses were all packing their bags.

A chorus of "Good morning, Doctor Turner" greeted him as he entered, immediately searching out Trixie.

"Nurse Franklin. Might I speak with you?"

Trixie's face fell as she noted his urgency. Nodding, she followed him out of the room to speak privately, not noticing the confused looks on the other women's faces.

"Is it Shelagh? What's wrong?"

"Shelagh is fine. She's finally agreed to announce the little one." He sighed in relief. "I came to tell everyone, actually, but I needed to speak with you first. Could you find time in your rounds each week to do a home visit with her, or at the surgery? Shelagh won't be attending clinic."

Understanding finally dawned on Trixie. "Is this due to Sister Julienne?"

Patrick nodded, trying to tamp down his anger. "Yes. It seems Shelagh had a better handle on her reaction than I thought. Obviously I will still be attending clinic, there's no way around that, but I'm not going to subject Shelagh and the baby to it."

"Whatever works best for Shelagh, I'll make myself available. I'm so sorry, Doctor Turner. This is such a happy occasion..."

"Quite. And thank you, Trixie, for keeping this quiet. I know how much Shelagh appreciates you for it." He took a deep breath. "Right, I suppose it's time to tell everyone. Then I've got to get home."

They walked back into the room, four pairs of eyes tracking them as they entered.

"I'm sorry to interrupt ladies, but I have some news that concerns you all. As of now, Shelagh will no longer be attending clinic, so someone else will have to man the intake table."

"Is your wife alright, Doctor? I don't mean to pry, but that sounds very unlike her." Nurse Mount asked.

"She is more than alright, thank you Nurse. Actually, we have some news... Shelagh's pregnant."

He steeled himself for another tense reaction but was met with silence. Looking up at the faces of his colleagues, he was shocked to see brilliant smiles along with a few tear-filled eyes.

"That's absolutely wonderful, Doctor Turner!"

"When is the little one due?"

"Congratulations!"

Patrick felt the tension in his body lessen at the positive reactions.

"Thank you, ladies. We're extremely excited, and shocked, but we couldn't be happier."

"I suppose we'll have to get her booked in next Tuesday. Unless you'd like us to book her in now?" Nurse Crane piped up, a smile evident on her face.

"Actually, I've already taken care of that." Nurse Franklin chimed in. "Shelagh just needs to be added to the Rolodex and my visit list."

"You knew?" Barbara questioned her.

"Why your visit list, she'll be able to attend clinic as a patient, will she not?"

"Actually, Nurse Crane...due to, unforeseen difficulties" Patrick glanced over his shoulder toward Julienne's office " I felt it best that she not be subjected to negative opinions over her pregnancy. So, no, she won't be attending clinic."

Trixie watched as everyone came to the same understanding. They'd all seen Sister Julienne's reaction to the contraceptive pill seminar and knew what she could be like in her convictions. Sister Mary Cynthia was the first to break the silence.

"Doctor? I'm sure that Nurse Crane could have the rota changed at the clinic so that Shelagh would be amongst people who don't see this as a negative? Would you be able to persuade her? We're her colleagues, and we don't want to miss seeing her, especially now."

"Absolutely. Tis but the work of a moment!" Nurse Crane interjected, taking out a pencil and making notes on her clipboard.

Patrick was moved, though he shouldn't have been surprised. This was the reaction he had hoped for, the reaction he could tell his wife about.

"Thank you, ladies. I'll pass on the congratulations to Shelagh. But now, I'm afraid I must get home."

"Of course! Give her our best, and tell her if she needs anything to call." Sister Mary Cynthia spoke for the group. "And Doctor? Congratulations."

"Thank you, Sister. All of you. Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

Biscuits 7

The only thing on Patrick Turner's mind as he parked his car outside his home was how to tell his wife what happened. Sighing heavily, he grabbed his hat and fished for his front door key on the keychain, opening the door to the flat.

"Shelagh? I'm back!"

"We're in here, Patrick!" her voice carried down the hallway from their bedroom. Stepping through the door, he as greeted with the sight of his daughter sitting on their bed, happily playing with a scarf and surrounded by a pile of Shelagh's clothes while his wife was struggling to zip herself into a brown dress.

"Here, let me." He walked towards her, easily pulling the zipper upright and laying a kiss to the back of her neck. Turning her around, he recognized the dress as one she had worn early on in their marriage before she had found her "personal style" as Nurse Franklin called it. The dress had always been a bit big on her, but now fit her shape almost perfectly.

"Thank you, Patrick. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go shopping today. This is the only thing that fits." She sighed. Shelagh hated clothes shopping. Once she found a few pieces she loved, she rotated them as many times as possible unless she absolutely needed to buy something new.

"That's no problem. Just tell me where you need to go and I'll drive you."

"You don't have to do that, dearest. You've got surgery in a few hours. Besides, it's Wednesday. Angela and I can do a bit of shopping and then go over to Nonnatus, we haven't been in weeks. I can't believe I got so worked up over nothing. I should have just gone with you-"

Patrick watched as the old personality of his wife began to shine again, a personality he hadn't seen in weeks. The optimistic, cheery side of her that had been lying dormant for so long was finally back...and he was about to crush it.

"Love, come and sit down." He shifted a pile of clothes to the other side of his daughter, watching as she delighted in running her tiny hands over the different fabrics and textures. "I was thinking, now that you're getting further along, perhaps it was time to cut back on work. Just one or two days a week at the surgery, no clinic, so you can take it easy."

Shelagh frowned at him. "No clinic? But- that would almost be easier. I could work the table and get examined while the-" she froze, suddenly understanding his reason. "Oh. They- _she_ didn't take it well, did she?"

His heart broke as he watched his wife's joy begin to ebb.

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm afraid you were right." He moved closer to her, wrapping his arm about her waist so he could stroke her belly. "But everyone else is absolutely thrilled. I pity Nurse Franklin right now, I'm sure they're all clamoring around her for the honor of being your midwife."

"Well- I guess that's that then. I suppose they can each come over for a home visit, or I'll see them on shift at the maternity home since the clinic is out of the question."

"Shelagh- please don't worry. Nurse Crane and Sister Mary Cynthia have everything in hand. You're booked with Trixie for a home visit every other week, and the other you'll be seen at the clinic."

"You had her change the rota? It was that bad?"

"No, my love. I just...I want to protect you, protect our family. We've already had to deal with so much gossip in the past, and I don't want to subject you and the little one to all of that negativity, especially as you progress. And I'll have you know, it was Sister Mary Cynthia's idea to change the rota, they were all so desperate to avoid losing you."

Shelagh smiled, though tears were evident in her eyes. "Well then, clinic it is." She tried to sound upbeat and cheery, but Patrick saw right through the act.

"It's alright, Shelagh. She'll come around, I promise." He pulled her into his chest, letting her sniffle into his pullover.

"You're not doing so well at keeping your promises today, Patrick."

Teatime at Nonnatus that evening was a study in awkwardness. Sisters Winifred and Monica Joan, both of whom were unaware of the situation that morning spent the meal trying to engage the table in conversation to no avail. In the end, it was Nurse Crane who broke the standoff.

"I've made a few changes to the schedule in regards to clinic and so forth. There seems to be a lull in births coming up, so the clinic roster will be more of a round robin instead of all of us there at once."

"Don't you think that is something that should have been run past me before implementing any changes, Nurse Crane?" Sister Julienne asked, sharper than most were used to hearing from her.

Phyllis stood her ground. "No, Sister. As a matter of fact, I don't. I think this new schedule will work out quite well, actually. It will allow our patients to still receive the care which they are entitled to while allowing the staff here some time apart." She stared down the table, unblinking in her defense.

"I see."

"I don't. Why does the rota need to change?" Sister Winifred spoke, once again not picking up on the social cues that said to stop asking questions.

"Well," came Trixie's curt response, her anger finally finding its way out in the open. "Now that Mrs. Turner won't be working each week, it means that one of us will have to take over the front table."

Sister Julienne fidgeted in her seat, unprepared for the conversation about to take place.

"Why won't Mrs. Turner be there? Is she unwell?"

Sister Mary Cynthia turned to her right to address her fellow nun. "Shelagh is quite well, Sister. She won't be working the clinic because she'll be attending it. As a patient."

Sister Monica Joan, who until that moment had been staring at her plate and moving her food around idly, perked up at the announcement.

"A patient? Surely, you must be mistaken my dear sister."

Sister Julienne smiled at her comment, knowing Sister Monica Joan would see the situation as clearly as she had.

"No, she isn't, Sister Monica Joan. Shelagh's expecting. Due in about three and a half months" Trixie responded with a smile, turning to her left. "I examined her myself- and she and baby are doing splendidly."

The elderly nuns eyes lit up at this news. "A miracle from the Lord himself! Just in time for spring. I must consult my charts this evening, draw up a horoscope for the future Turner."

"How wonderful!" Sister Winifred squealed. "They must be so excited. Isn't this fantastic news, Sister?" The table turned to Julienne, watching as her lips pursed.

"If you will all excuse me, I've lost my appetite and I have paperwork that needs to be seen to before Compline." She pushed away from the table, clearing her dishes and making her way out of the dining room.

"What was that all about?" Asked Sister Winifred.

"It seems that not everyone believes this news to be a happy occasion." Phyllis muttered, shooting a glance at the nuns retreating form.

"Well, I believe this miracle should be celebrated!" Sister Monica Joan stoops from her place and walked into the kitchen, pulling open various cabinets until she found what she was searching for. "And celebrations require cake!" She exclaimed, placing the tin in the center of the table with a broad smile, wasting no time in cutting into it.


	8. Chapter 8

Biscuits 8

As with most things, Nurse Crane was right about the new clinic schedule. It gave Sister Julienne and one other nurse off each time Shelagh was scheduled for a visit, rotating the others so they would all have the chance to see her. And it was working out perfectly.

The Turner baby was a regular point of discussion throughout Nonnatus House for the next several weeks. Sister Monica Joan, convinced that the baby would be a girl, knit her way through nearly a dozen skeins of yarn making plenty of baby clothes and blankets for the new arrival.

"Sister? What if the baby is a boy? Shelagh will have nothing for him if you keep knitting in pink."

"It will not be a boy, Nurse Gilbert. My charts have prophesied a little girl, and a little girl it shall be."

With that, she gathered up her knitting bag and made her way out of the parlor. Unsurprisingly, the topic seemed to fade out whenever Sister Julienne was present. None of them had the energy to fight with her, hoping that eventually she would come to terms with Shelagh's pregnancy.

Shelagh was doing quite well, all things considered. At just over six months, she was starting to look properly pregnant. Trixie had taken her clothes shopping as her bump began to grow, and Barbara offered to let out another nurses uniform for her.

"Patrick!? Come quickly!"

Hearing the urgency in his wife's voice, he dropped his bag and slammed the door, running through the flat until he reached her. He had just gotten home from the surgery and was looking forward to spending the evening at home with his family. Shelagh was sitting on the couch, Angela next to her, and both of their hands were covering her belly.

"What's wrong?" He rushed next to her, panic gripping his insides, as he kneeled beside the sofa. Shelagh grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly, a dazzling smile evident on her face.

"Baby!" Angela squealed, patting her mother's belly. It had taken a while, but finally the two year old was starting to understand that there was a baby in Mummy's belly and her parents did their best to include her in each aspect.

"That's right, Angel. That's the baby kicking." Shelagh smiled at her daughter before moving the gaze to her husband.

Patrick returned her smile, rubbing his hand over her bump as the motions ceased. "That was incredible."

"I know. First one. Angie and I just finished putting dinner together and sat down to wait for you."

"Baby kick!" Angela squealed again, poking Shelagh's stomach and making her parents laugh at her enthusiasm.

"I think Baby went to sleep, sweetheart." Patrick said, brushing a hand over Angela's hair.

"Night night?"

"Yes, darling. Baby went night night." Shelagh whispered, rubbing her bump.

"Night night baby." Shelagh watched in awe as her daughter bent down and placed a kiss on her belly. Tears gathered in her eyes as she made eye contact with her husband, whose eyes were glistening a bit as well. "Dadda hungry!" Angela cried, breaking their trance.

"Oh, are you, Miss Turner?" Patrick laughed as he stood from the floor reaching to pluck his daughter from the couch and into his arms. "Well...it seems we'll need to fix that, shouldn't we?"

"Goodnight, my love." Patrick whispered as he kissed his wife on the cheek while she settled herself into bed.

"Goodnight, Patrick." Shelagh sighed as she finally got herself into a comfortable position. She lay partially on her back and right side, facing away from her husband. If she'd thought she had problems getting comfortable before her pregnancy progressed, it was ten times worse now.

Patrick leaned over her belly, pressing his mouth close as he rubbed his hand over her nightdress.

"Goodnight, little one. Daddy can't wait to meet you."

He laughed loudly, moving his hand again across her belly as the baby responded to his voice. "Shelagh! Did you feel that?"

Watching her husband with a serene smile on her face, she tried to hold back her groan of discomfort. "Surprisingly, dearest, I did feel that."

"Baby Turner knows Daddy's voice. Yes they do. We'll be seeing you so soon, little one."

With a final stroke of his wife's belly, Patrick reached over to turn out the light before curling up beside his wife resting his arm on her belly, this thumb moving in slow circles as the baby continued to respond to his movements.

"Patrick?" Shelagh whispered.

"Yes, love?"

"I love you."

Patrick smile as he kissed her on the cheek. "I love you too, Shelagh."

"Good. Now dearest, I don't want you to take this as a reproach."

"What is it, Shelagh? What's wrong?"

"Please stop touching me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your hands, Patrick. You've got to stop moving." Patrick's face fell into a deep, hurtful frown as Shelagh continued. "I'm sorry, dearest. But the more you move, the more the baby moves. And the more the baby moves, the more uncomfortable I get."

Patrick quickly removed his hand and began to shuffle away from his wife. "I'm sorry, Shelagh. I'll move to my side, or I can sleep on the sofa if you prefer."

Shelagh felt the bed dip from his weight as he began to sit up. "No!" She reached her hand behind her, feeling for his arm to stop him from getting up. "You don't need to leave, Patrick. Here...lie back down."

Patrick resumed the position he had been in moments before. "There." She sighed as she leant back against him lightly. "Now...give me your hand." Taking his hand and placing it on her belly, she covered it with her own.

"Uh-uh!" She stilled him as he tried to rub his thumb. "No moving. You're egging each other on."

"They started it..." He whispered into her shoulder.

"Patrick Turner, if you even think about blaming our unborn child because you can't control yourself, I'll be putting you in charge of midnight nappies."

Patrick tried not to chuckle at his wife, as he could tell she meant business.

"Sorry, love. I'll try to contain myself."

"It's just at bedtime, Patrick. In the morning, you and Baby can have as long a conversation as you want- but bedtime is off-limits."

"Deal. Isn't that right, little one?" Patrick laughed as the baby kicked several times in succession.

"Patrick!" Shelagh scolded.

"Sorry, love. Last time, I promise."

Shelagh sighed, muttering under her breath. "I'll believe that when I see it."


	9. Chapter 9

"Well! Would you look at what we have here?!" Nurse Crane couldn't contain her smile as Shelagh entered the community center with her daughter at the tail end of clinic one Tuesday as she neared her eighth month of pregnancy. "Who is this little lass, Miss Turner?" she asked, bending down to the toddler's level.

Angela Turner beamed as she walked beside her mother, pushing her doll pram and baby.

"Angela refused to leave it at home..." Shealgh smiled, a tinge of exhaustion evident in her response.

"Baby!" Angela proudly squealed, wheeling her pram up to the intake table next to Delia Busby.

"Hello, Angela. What a lovely pram you've got there!" Delia cooed in her Welsh accent.

"Nurse Busby? It's quite the surprise to see you here." Shelagh interjected as Trixie tried to help her take her jacket off.

"Hello, Mrs. Turner. I had the day off, so I offered to run the table- you know, to try and help myself get used to the routine of clinic."

Shelagh smiled, watching as her daughter picked up her doll and presented it to Delia, reveling in the attention of someone outside her family.

"There's my girls! I was wondering where you'd got to." Patrick's voice carried from the kitchen as he made his way over to Shelagh. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice lowered as he looked her over.

"Yes, dear. We're fine. Angela wanted to bring baby for a checkup, too." Shelagh bit her lip to stifle her laughter as she rubbed her belly. "So it took us a bit longer to get here with the pram."

Angela, tired of only having the attentions of Delia Busby, picked up her baby doll and started walking around the now-empty clinic to see the other nurses.

"I'll keep a weather-eye, Nurse Franklin. You take Mrs. Turner in for her exam." Nurse Crane spoke from the toy corner.

Shelagh smiled, turning towards the cubicles when her daughter's excited cry of "Sister!" rang out through the hall. Shelagh's face blanched, and everyone froze in place, as they turned around to see the commotion. It was supposed to be Sister Julienne's week off- nobody expected her to turn up as she knew that Shelagh was a clinical patient on those days.

"Hello, Angela." came a quiet voice from the doorway which made Shelagh immediately relax as she turned to see her daughter in Sister Mary Cynthia's arms, babbling about her baby doll needing a checkup.

"Well, how about I take a look while Mummy has her exam?"

Angela nodded, clinging to the sister's neck as she was carried towards the cubicles.

"Sister, you don't have to do that." Patrick started to protest.

"Nonsense, Doctor Turner. Baby needs a checkup." Sister Mary Cynthia smiled at the toddler in her arms. "Hello, Shelagh. You're looking well, how are you feeling?"

"A bit top-heavy, but otherwise wonderful. Thank you, Sister." She turned her attention to her daughter. "Angela? You behave for Sister Mary Cynthia while Mummy has her checkup."

"'Kay."

Trixie ushered Shelagh to the next cubicle as Patrick followed them to help her onto the table. Unlike some of the other midwives, Trixie had no problem in allowing Doctor Turner to remain during Shelagh's examination, as long as he kept his distance.

"Alright, then! Baby is doing very well. Heartbeat is excellent, the lie is good and your vitals are beautiful. I don't think we'll be seeing much more of you."

"Really?" Shelagh breathed, struggling to sit up before motioning for her husband to help her.

"Baby is quite low, so I don't think you'll be more than another few weeks."

Shelagh beamed as she met her husband's gaze. "Well, while I'm going to miss seeing you all, I can't say I'm sorry to hear that. I'm starting to get quite large."

"No you're not, love. You're just perfect." Patrick whispered, placing a kiss on his wife's head.

"Thank you, dearest...but until you're carrying all this extra weight, you don't get to chime in."

Trixie tried to stifle a giggle, unsuccessfully. "Sorry..." she cleared her throat. "Any questions or concerns?"

"No, thank you Trixie. You've really been wonderful throughout this whole pregnancy."

The blonde smiled as she started to clean up her equipment and opened the curtain, watching as Sister Mary Cynthia and Angela settled her doll back into the pram.

"Well, what's the diagnosis Sister?" Patrick smirked as he helped his wife put her coat on.

"Oh! Happy and healthy, Doctor Turner. What about you, Shelagh?"

"Happy and healthy." She smiled back before grimacing. "And kicking me in the ribs. Oh! Angel, are you ready to go home?"

"Bye bye!" Angela called as she started pushing the pram out of the hall, barely waiting for her parents to follow her.

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"Shelagh-" Patrick said warningly as his wife continued her ministrations. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

Her hands slipped from his shoulders and moved down towards his tie, slowly unhitching the knot and pulling it from his collar.

"What am I trying to do?" she asked innocently, succeeding in her task as they sat together on the couch that evening after the children had gone to bed.

"You know perfectly well..."

"I'm simply kissing my husband, Doctor Turner. Surely that's not against the rules."

As soon as Shelagh had entered her third trimester, Patrick had enforced a "no intimacy beyond kissing" rule. She had been exhausted for most of the sixth and seventh months that it didn't matter, but once the morning sickness had disappeared she suddenly found herself insatiable. And no matter what she did, she couldn't get her husband to budge.

"My love, no matter how hard you try to convince me, you know we can't." Patrick responded to her kisses, his voice still holding a warning tone.

"I know that's how you feel." Shelagh nipped at his ear. "But I'm still not completely convinced of your reasoning."

"Shelagh-"

"Is it the belly? Because if it's in the way, I'm sure we could come up with some...solution." She placed her hands back onto his shoulders and tried to shift her body to her knees on the sofa next to her husband.

Patrick, whose eyes had been closed as he enjoyed the sensory overload of his wife's frantic passions, felt the shift and opened his eyes as he stilled her movements.

"No. It's not the belly- it's the fact that it could send you into early labor." He maneuvered her back into a sitting position, keeping one arm on her shoulder to make sure she didn't try to mount his lap again.

"You heard Nurse Franklin...baby is doing so well. I'm sure it couldn't hurt."

"I'm sorry, my love."

"But Patrick- you can't just-"

"No buts, Shelagh."

"I'm starting to get more than a little annoyed that people keep telling me that during this whole pregnancy." She sulked, shrugging her husband's hand from her shoulder.

"My love, I promise you, once this little one arrives there is nothing that could possibly stop me from being with you."

"Except nappies, or feeding, or the phone, or-"

"Shelagh. I promise you." He pressed their foreheads together, nuzzling his nose against hers. "But until then, no dice." He kissed her quickly before he got up from the couch, headed towards the kitchen to stay away from temptation.


	10. Chapter 10

"How was clinic?" Sister Julienne asked as Sister Mary Cynthia entered the clinical room to sterilize her instruments.

"Busy, but it petered out towards the end." She paused. "Shelagh brought Angela in with her today. She was toddling around the hall with her baby doll and pram, saying that her baby needed a checkup like her Mummy's baby. She's going to make a lovely big sister."

The older nun smiled sadly, thinking of her godchild, wondering how much she had changed in the few months since she'd last seen her. "Yes, I'm sure she will. She has a large heart for such a little girl." Julienne responded wistfully, unable to hide the emotion in her face or voice. "If you'll excuse me, Sister."

Sister Mary Cynthia sighed as she watched her walk swiftly out of the clinical room and continued to empty her bag and go about her duties.

"A noble attempt, Sister." came a voice from the doorway. "However, I fear that there may be no conclusion to this separation without a divine intervention."

Glancing up at Sister Monica Joan, the younger nun nodded in agreement until she could no longer fight the emotions building up inside of her. She had taken vows, most importantly one of obedience, but she could no longer allow herself to be held back because of it. Obedience or not, this just wasn't right, and she made a decision to no longer stand idly by.

"Well...enough is enough." She closed her case with a snap and walked out of the room with purpose, headed towards Julienne's office. "This has to stop."

When her knock at the door went unanswered, she knew where to turn. She found her in the chapel, eyes closed in prayer kneeling before the altar with the well-worn Bible held against her chest.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Sister. But I need a word."

When nothing but a withering look of defeat was given in response, Sister Mary Cynthia shut the chapel door and made her way to one of the wooden chairs.

"Sister- please talk to me. This...estrangement has gone on unresolved for far too long."

"So many things are changing. I feel as though, wherever I turn for counsel, I am in the wrong."

"You're not wrong if these are your feelings, Sister. Feelings are valid, as are beliefs. But I beg you to ask yourself this one thing: are the consequences worth the pain? Never seeing the Turners, your goddaughter, again?"

"The Church says-"

Sister Mary Cynthia interrupted her. "I know what the Church says, Sister Julienne. I've taken vows as well, but it seems that we have a different opinion over certain things. Surely a child, no matter the circumstances by which it was conceived will always be a blessing."

Julienne nodded as Mary Cynthia continued.

"The Lord has given the Turners their greatest wish- one that all of us prayed for Him to grant them- so who are we to judge His timing?"

Julienne did not respond, so the younger sister continued on. "You'll have to pardon me Sister, but I can't help but notice that you didn't have these feelings toward Iris Willens last Christmas."

"I'm sorry?"

"Mrs. Willens thought she'd gone through the menopause, and yet she conceived. As far as I can tell, there really isn't a difference between her and Shelagh...except of course, your personal relationship with them."

Julienne was struck silent by the realization of her sister's words.

"I-I feel as if I don't know her anymore."

"Shelagh is who she has always been. She's a midwife, and a nurse, a devoted wife and loving mother." She took a breath before continuing. "She's not Sister Bernadette anymore- you have to let that part of her go, Sister. Or you are going to miss out on witnessing one of God's greatest gifts."

"This has gone on long enough, Sister. You need to make amends." Mary Cynthia stood from her chair, laying a hand on Julienne's shoulder before she began to leave. "If there's one thing I've learned here at Nonnatus, it's that there's no such thing as too much love."


	11. Chapter 11

Julienne sits in the chapel alone for quite some time after Sister Mary Cynthia leaves her. She hates to admit it, but she's right. There has been a definite double standard in the way she has treated Shelagh Turner throughout her pregnancy. Even prior to the pregnancy, when she dares to think about it. The thought makes her feel sick. How could she risk losing another confidante? Her only real confidante, come to think of it. Shelagh is the only person she ever told about her life before the veil. Of Charles Newgarden and chances not taken. And other than Doctor Turner, Sister Julienne is the only person who knew of Shelagh's struggles as well.

Sister Mary Cynthia was right. This couldn't continue any longer. The last time they had been estranged, it had been Shelagh's choice. Her anxiety over leaving the Order, the gossip of Poplar and the feeling that she'd disappointed Julienne had kept them apart until catastrophe struck with Timothy's polio diagnosis. Sister Julienne remembered those dark days, and couldn't fathom how she had let herself cause them to happen again. The only question that remained was how she would go about making amends with her former sister. She prayed that it wouldn't again take a negative event to bring them back together.

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"William?"

"Yes...Charles?"

A shrug. "Okay. Thomas."

"No."

"Why not?"

Shelagh was leaning on the sofa with a pad and pencil taking notes while her husband fiddled about making tea in the kitchen.

"Tommy and Timmy? I don't think so, Patrick."

"I hadn't thought of that..."

Shelagh muttered under her breath. "I'm not surprised."

"Alright, that's enough boys names. What about for a girl?"

"Shelagh, there are only four boys names we've agreed on!" Patrick said incredulously.

"Yes. A first name, a middle name and two spares to choose from." She took a sip of the tea he offered her and placed her cup down on the sideboard.

He watched as she frowned when he took a seat next to her. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing-"

"And don't tell me nothing." he said at the same time as her answer.

Shelagh blushed, glancing down at her lap with a small smile before looking up at him through her lashes.

"Could you get us some biscuits?" she asked, rubbing her bump, knowing she would get whatever she asked for if she referred to herself as "us".

Patrick paused with his teacup halfway to his mouth before heaving himself off the sofa and back to the kitchen.

Shelagh nestled herself further into the couch cushions, trying to get some support on her lower back, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Besides, we won't need any more boys names since it's going to be a girl." she said flippantly, reaching out for the biscuits he'd brought back.

Patrick raised his eyebrows at that. "Oh it is, is it?" He pulled his hand back with the plate, delighting in the yelp that sounded from the back of her throat. "Has pregnancy turned you into a clairvoyant, my love?"

Shelagh smiled as he handed her the plate, batting his hand away when he tried to take one. "It's just a feeling."

"Oh, no...you don't actually believe Sister Monica Joan, do you?!"

His wife refused to meet his gaze as she nibbled at her biscuit and perused their list of names. "You'd be surprised, Patrick. She's often right about these things!"

"Shelagh, she's got a fifty-fifty chance. Those odds look good to anyone...even Fred!"

"We'll see, dearest." She rubbed her bump, smiling at her husband as his hand covered hers. "Now, stop trying to distract me and give me your choices."

"Does it matter? If you already know it's a girl, then I'm sure you've already chosen her name." Patrick looked down at his wife, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Of course it matters! Although I do have some lovely names picked out..."


	12. Chapter 12

It doesn't start the way she expects it to. She expects it to be sudden and painful, with no doubt that she's in labor. So when she wakes up earlier than usual on the following Tuesday, a slight pain in her back, she thinks nothing of it. Untangling herself from her husband's arms, she struggles to sit up, using one hand for leverage as the other begins to rub her lower back.

"Shelagh?" Patrick asks, voice confused and husky with sleep.

"It's alright, dearest. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure? What's wrong?" He begins to sit up, moving behind his wife.

"Nothing. Just can't sleep anymore with these pains in my back."

Patrick reaches out, beginning to rub gentle circles into the area his wife's hand had been focusing as she bent forward, moaning in pleasure as the ache dissipates from her husband's touch.

"Thank you." She leans back into him, turning her head to place a kiss on his cheek, stopping short when she notices the concerned look on his face. "What?"

"How long have you been having pains?" he whispers, his fingers continuing to rub her back before an arm reaches around to the front of her belly, getting a kick from Baby in response.

"Not long. Less than half an hour, maybe?"

"Have you had more than the one?"

"No...why?"

"I'm just asking. You could be going into labor."

She scoffed at that as she stood from the bed, shrugging her dressing gown over herself, unable to close it due to her size. "Patrick, if anything, they're Braxton Hicks. I'm not due for a few weeks yet." With that, she made her way into the kitchen, going about her normal routine of feeding her family and packing lunches for the men.

"I'm nervous about leaving you alone if you're having contractions."

"I won't be alone, will I Angel?"

"You know what I meant, Shelagh."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay home?" Her husband asks her for the fifth time that morning, this time as he packs his bag on the table while Shelagh cleans up breakfast from the face and hands of their toddler daughter.

"Yes, I'm sure. It's Tuesday, you'll be busy enough with clinic and the surgery without having to find a locum at such short notice just so you can sit here and stare at me all day."

"But what if I wanted to stare at you all day?" He moves closer to her, hands landing on her hips as he moved in to capture her lips in a kiss.

"Darling, listen to me. I am perfectly fine. Trixie will be here at ten o'clock for my exam, I am within an arm's reach of the phone and I have all the numbers I need. Don't forget, I'm a midwife too. I'm confident that this is normal." She gives him a bright smile, squeezing his hand as she continues to pack Timothy's lunch for school and then ushers the two of them out of the flat.

"Well, Angel. It's just you and me until Aunt Trixie gets here. What shall we do first, hmm?" Shelagh asks, brushing a hand over the child's dirty blonde hair.

"Mumma, down!" Angela shrieks, lifting her arms and begging to be free of the highchair. Shelagh conceded immediately and spent the next two hours watching over her daughter as she toddled around the flat.

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"Baby's head is engaged, but they don't seem to be on the move just yet. Are you still having the pains?"

"Every once in a while. Nothing too intense, though."

"They're most likely Braxton Hicks."

"Which is exactly what I told Patrick this morning..."

Trixie smiled. "Would you like me to pass on the message at clinic?"

Shelagh nodded, the tension in her body lessening as Trixie offered. "Please. He may stop worrying if he hears it from someone other than myself. Although that's not likely." She giggled.

"Absolutely! Now, where is that charming daughter of yours? I've just enough time for a quick cuddle and then I need to continue my rounds."

"She's in her playpen in the living room. I expect she's waiting for you with her baby doll." Shelagh rolled her eyes. Every time Trixie came for a home visit, Angela insisted that her baby needed an exam as well. Trixie found it adorable, and kept up with the act each week, while to Shelagh it was a positive indication that Angela was excited about becoming a big sister.

"Ah, yes! Checkup day!" Trixie smirked at her friend as she grabbed her bag and stethoscope and made her way out to the living room. "I'll let you get yourself back together."

Shelagh sat on the bed a moment longer, gritting her teeth as a sharper pain pulsed down her spine. Breathing through it, she collected herself enough to make it out to the living room in time to see Trixie putting her stethoscope to Angela's doll.

"Well, Miss Angela. Your baby seems just as healthy as Mummy's!" She put her equipment back into her bag, turning to Shelagh before she exited the hallway. "Now, I'll let Doctor Turner know he can stop being such a worry wart. But- if you still feel these pains later on, I want you to call. Just so we can be sure."

"Alright."

"Promise?"

"I promise I will call."

Trixie narrowed her eyes, staring at Shelagh for a moment before accepting her word. "Right then, I'm off. Angela, keep an eye on your Mummy for me?"

"'Kay!" came the enthusiastic response from the toddler, far too engrossed in wrapping her baby in a blanket to wave goodbye."

"Bye Shelagh." Trixie reached out to hug Shelagh before placing a hand on her stomach. "Bye little one, don't be a menace."

Waving Trixie off, Shelagh and Angela continued about their day as the pains ebbed and flowed throughout Shelagh's body.

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By the time Timothy arrived home from school a few hours later, Shelagh was exhausted. The pains had been getting continuously stronger, but would fade a bit before growing in severity once again.

"Timothy? I hate to disappoint you dearest, but would you mind having fish and chips for dinner tonight?" Shelagh asked him with a straight face, knowing her son's penchant for anything fried in oil and wrapped in newsprint. A trait he shared with his father.

"Really?" he asks, looking at her skeptically.

Shelagh smiles at him, wincing a little as the pains have returned. "Yes, really. Baby has me feeling quite tired all of a sudden and I don't think I'll be able to stand long enough to cook dinner." She keeps her voice as level as she can, internally fighting against the pains she now knows are not Braxton Hicks.

Timothy looks at her, her face damp with a sheen of sweat and eyes that won't meet his gaze. "Are you alright, Mum? Do you need anything?"

Shelagh does her best to focus on him and smile encouragingly, but only manages a tense nod.

"I'm fine, Tim. There's a few notes in my bag on the table. Why don't you take your sister for a walk down to the pier and pick up the food on your way back? And make sure to get one for your father, too. I'm sure he'll be home soon."

Tim nods, wanting to ask her again if she's alright, but knows she won't change her answer.

"Alright. Come on, Ange! Let's go get dinner." He held out his hand as his little sister toddled over to him. Casting one last concerned look at his mother before leaving the flat.

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Gathering her strength, Shelagh waits to hear the click of the front door before moving to the phone in the hallway and dialing the number for the surgery. She loses count of how many times the phone rings before hanging up and sinking to her knees in the hall as another sharp pain begins, unable to stop the groan she emits.

She grasps the phone again, this time dialing the three numbers she could recite in her sleep, fervently hoping she would be met with any voice except one. On the second ring, the line clicks.

"Nonnatus House. Midwife speaking."

Shelagh lets out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, hearing the voice on the other line.

"Nurse Crane?" her voice is shakier than she would like, but she can't find it in herself to care. "It's Shelagh Turner. Is Nurse Franklin there?"

"No, I'm sorry Mrs. Turner. Nurse Franklin is at her Al- Art History class this evening."

"Oh!" Shelagh gasps as an even sharper pain begins.

"Mrs. Turner?"

"Nurse Crane- I, um- I think I'm in need of a midwife."

"I'm on my way, Mrs. Turner. Are you alone?"

"Yes...I sent the children out." Shelagh starts to tear up, overwhelmed. "And I can't find Patrick."

"Listen to me, Mrs. Turner. Just hold tight and I'll be with you in five minutes. Is the door unlocked?"

"I- I'm not sure. There's a- spare key at Nonnatus, just in case. Sister Julienne has it from- from a while back."

Phyllis stood up, scrawling the name Turner on the callboard next to her name.

"It's alright, Mrs. Turner. I'm on my way now, and I will send out a search party to find your husband if I have to. Alright?"

"Mmmhmm." Shelagh cries, biting down on her bottom lip to try and dull the pain. She hears Nurse Crane utter a form of goodbye and replaces the handset of the phone. She lowers herself to the floor so that she's sitting on her bottom with her back pressed against the wall, trying desperately to remember the relaxation techniques Sister Mary Cynthia had taught her at Mothercraft.

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Back at Nonnatus, Nurse Crane is hastily packing her bag and grabbing a spare maternity pack before bustling down the hallway to Sister Julienne's office, knocking twice before entering.

"Nurse Crane!?"

"I do apologize for barging in, Sister. But I understand you have a spare key to the Turner home and I am in need of it. Now."

Looking at her with a quizzical frown, Julienne does not immediately understand why Nurse Crane would need to access the Turner flat unless it was an emergency or...of course, for Shelagh.

"Sister?! The key, please." Nurse Crane bites out, her hand outstretched as Julienne comes back to her senses opening her desk drawer and handing over the metal keyring.

"Thank you, Sister. You're next on call. The others are on their rounds. Nurse Franklin is at her class. And should you hear from Doctor Turner, please inform him that his presence is required at home!" Phyllis calls out over her shoulder as she dashes down the hallway leaving the nun stunned in her wake.

In the week since she and Sister Mary Cynthia had spoken, Julienne had yet to make amends. She had played the scene over and over in her head. How would she say it? Would she cry? Would Shelagh invite her into her home and hear her apology, or would she simply shut the door in her face? Even now, Sister Julienne doesn't know what to do. After decades of being the wise one, she felt hopelessly out of her depth.


	13. Chapter 13

"Well, from the looks of you I can see this isn't a false alarm, is it?"

Nurse Crane asks as she kneels onto the floor next to Shelagh, who had been unable to move from her spot in the hallway.

"No...I suppose not." Shelagh breathed out a laugh.

Phyllis opened her bag and took out her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, taking Shelagh's vitals.

"Well, now. Let's get you somewhere a bit more comfortable." Nurse Crane says as she helps Shelagh to her feet, supporting her as they made their way down the hall. "I don't think Baby wants to make their entrance here in the hallway."

Getting her settled into the bedroom, Phyllis helped Shelagh out of her dress and into bed.

"Have your waters broken?"

Shelagh was panting heavily, the pains in her back spreading through her body, making it difficult to breathe.

"No. Pains started a few hours ago. I- I woke up to one this morning and Patrick thought it was labor. He wanted to stay home, but I-". Shelagh sucked in a deep breath as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I didn't listen. I thought it was Braxton Hicks. I-I should have listened."

"Now, now. There's no need for tears. I've never known a wife who didn't have the basic urge to prove her husband wrong."

Shelagh laughed at that. "But now he's not here. He's going to miss it-all because I didn't want to listen."

"Right now, that's enough blame, young lady. I'm going to examine you and see how far we are and then we're going to find Doctor Turner."

Shelagh nodded as Nurse Crane helped her to lie back and felt baby's position. As she opened her case to retrieve her pinard, the sound of the front door closing struck them both.

"Mum?! We're back!"

"The children! I don't want them to see me like this!" Shelagh gutted her teeth, breathing deeply.

"I'll take care of them. You relax. Take deep breaths."

She closed the bedroom door behind her, making her way down the hallway to the sitting room just as Timothy turned towards her.

"Nurse Crane?"

"Good evening, Master Turner." Turning her focus to the child in the high chair, she smiled. "And Miss Angela."

"Why are you here? Is Mum okay?"

"Oh yes, she's doing just fine. It would seem that Baby is very eager to meet you all of a sudden. Now, why don't you and your sister go into the kitchen and shut the door while I get your mother sorted. Don't want those fish and chips to get cold now."

Timothy nodded, a look of nervous excitement on his face, before he walked into the kitchen and settled down at the table with his sister.

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"Right then-" Phyllis said, entering the bedroom once more. "They're settled in the kitchen with dinner, so there's no need to worry. Let's have a look at you." Helping Shelagh to lift her knees, Phyllis frowned in concentration.

"What's wrong?" came an exhausted voice from the head of the bed.

"Nothing's wrong, Mrs. Turner."

"Nurse Crane, I think we're acquainted well enough now for you to call me Shelagh. And I can see it in your face. What's wrong?"

Phyllis helped to put her knees down and resettled the sheets around Shelagh as she took a deep breath.

"It appears that Baby isn't as keen to arrive as quickly as we expected. You're only four fingers dilated, I'm afraid."

"Four?!" Shelagh groaned.

If this was the pain that came with only four fingers, she couldn't imagine what fully dilated would feel like. She didn't have a chance to voice her concerns as another pain took hold of her, making her cry out.

"Alright, love. Breathe through it. Now, once this passes, I'm going to get you some relief."

Shelagh nodded weakly as the pain ended and Nurse Crane went out to her car to retrieve the gas and air.

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"Hell's teeth!" The boot was empty. She'd brought the machine inside to refill the gas canisters and had never put it back in the car. She races back into the flat, making a beeline to the phone.

"Nonnatus House. Midwife speaking."

"Ah, Sister. Good. You've not been called out yet."

"Nurse Crane? Is everything alright?"

"Yes and no, Sister. I'm still with Mrs. Turner- things aren't progressing as much as I thought and I-" she paused, uncharacteristically. "I'm in need of assistance."

"What's the matter?"

"She's only at four- but she's been going for most of the day. In significant pain."

"And how can I be of assistance?"

"I've left the gas at Nonnatus House. I need you to bring it to me as fast as possible."

"I- I don't think she would want me there. I can-"

"Sister, you need to pull your socks up! I've a mother in distress, your personal issues are of no consequence. Now, Nurse Busby should be returning from her shift at any moment. Leave her a note to man the phone and get over here with that gas!" Phyllis barked down the phone before she replaced the headset.

"Alright, Mrs. Turner. Relief is on it's way. So, until it gets here, you just take my hand and let out a holler whenever you need to."

"Did anyone. Find. Patrick yet?"

"Not yet. But he can't stay hidden away forever, can he? Besides, I'm told that Doctor Turner has a habit of being fashionably late."

Shelagh smiled. "That he does...and it seems that Baby will be taking over that trait."

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Sister Julienne stood staring at the phone in her hand for a moment after Nurse Crane hung up. Sending up a quick prayer, she thought of Shelagh and the agony she must be facing if Nurse Crane was calling for assistance.

Quickly jotting down 'Turner' next to her own name on the callboard and leaving a note on the door for the other midwives, she packed up the gas canister and equipment, secured them to her bicycle and rode off as the sun began to set along the docks.

She arrived at the house in less than ten minutes, though she had no recollection of how she'd gotten there. She leaned her bicycle against the front wall and quickly unhooked her equipment before she froze in front of the door.

Should she knock? Should she go right in? She was uncertain of propriety in this situation. _'I've a mother in distress.'_ Phyllis' words repeated themselves over and over in her head, making her decision simple. She walked straight into the flat, making her way to the bedrooms.

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*knock knock*

"Enter!" Nurse Crane called, barely looking up from where she was wiping Shelagh's brow with a cold flannel. Shelagh was lying on her side, eyes closed against the pain, trying to breathe deeply.

"Good Lord." Sister Julienne whispered as Nurse Crane stood to meet her and take the equipment, bringing her up to speed.

"Still at a four, there's been no change. Heartbeat is steady, but if she doesn't start to get a move on I'm afraid we'll have to telephone for an ambulance."

Sister Julienne walked over to the bed, kneeling beside Shelagh and ran her hand over her hair, causing Shelagh to open her eyes.

"Sister Julienne-" Shelagh breathed, a look of nervousness on her face.

"Hello, my dear. I hear you're having quite a long day."

Shelagh nodded, unsure of her emotion at seeing Sister Julienne after so long.

"Would you mind if I had a look? See if we can't get your little one here on the move?"

Shelagh nodded again, rolling to her back and allowing Sister Julienne to examine the baby's lie. Her cool hands bringing her some comfort, if only for a moment.

"Have her waters broken yet?" Julienne turned to Nurse Crane, who shook her head. "We need her on the floor, try to get Baby to move."

Nurse Crane nodded, grabbing a sheet and laying it on the floor in front of the bed as the nun helped Shelagh to sit up.

"Shelagh, we need you to change position. Nurse Crane and I are going to help you to kneel on the floor with the bed to support you, and then we'll get you some gas, alright?"

"Sister? I- I'm sorry if I-"

Sister Julienne grabbed her hands, silencing her.

"Hush, Shelagh. The word 'sorry' should only be coming from one person in this room- and it's not you, it's me. I've only ever been married to the Church. I know nothing about the love between a husband and wife, but I do know you, Shelagh. Better than I know myself, at times, I should think."

Shelagh stared at her former superior, tears crowding her vision and smiled weakly.

"I allowed my faith, and my personal opinion, to cloud my judgment over this miracle. I never should have said any of the things I did. I don't expect you to accept it, but I can only sit here and beg you to forgive me. I am so very, very sorry for my actions, Shelagh. And I am so very happy for you and your family."

Shelagh smiled at her former superior, quickly having it turn to a grimace as she felt another pain coming. Nurse Crane handed over the mask as Julienne supported her. As the pain passed and she was helped onto the floor, she grabbed Julienne's hand tightly.

"Forgiven." she breathed.

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"Thank you again for all your help, Doctor Turner. Can I offer you a cup of tea before you head off?"

"No, thank you Nurse Gilbert. I've just got to drop off these instruments in the clinical room, I'm afraid the autoclave at the surgery is broken again."

"Of course. Right this way, Doctor Turner."

He followed Nurse Gilbert down the hallway and into the clinical room, noting that the convent was quieter than usual.

"Where is everyone?"

"Out on their evening rounds, I expect. I believe Nurse Crane is on call, though."

They walked into the clinical room, both depositing their tools into the autoclave and bagging up sterilized sets.

"Well, thank you Nurse Gilbert. Please apologize to Nurse Crane for me, I'm sure she'll be none too happy with having to sterilize my instruments yet again."

"I'll tell her when she gets back from-oh!"

"What?" He followed Nurse Gilbert's gaze, turning to the callboard and seeing the name 'Turner' written in bold letters. "Bloody hell!"

He was out of the clinical room in a moment, hands fumbling as he started the car and sped off towards his home.


	14. Chapter 14

"Good, Shelagh. That's it, just breathe through this one and then we'll see how you're doing."

Shelagh nodded, putting down the mask and leaning on the bed as Nurse Crane examined her.

"Seven. We're on the road to somewhere now, Mrs. Turner."

"Thank the Lord." Shelagh leaned her head onto her forearms, breathing deeply as Sister Julienne rubbed her lower back. After a few minutes, she gasped out. "My waters just went."

Nurse Crane leaned down to check her."Clear as crystal. Do you want to stay down here or move back to the bed, Mrs. Turner? Wherever you're more comfortable."

"The bed, please. I do not want to bring this baby into the world kneeling as though I'm scrubbing the floor."

Phyllis and Sister Julienne both smirked at that, while preparing the bed with the delivery pack before helping Shelagh off the floor.

"Alright, lass. Let's get you settled. Up we go!"

"I never thought this would take so long." Shelagh moaned as she got settled.

Sister Julienne tried to soothe her."We're on the move now, my dear. It shouldn't be much longer. Now that your waters have gone, Baby should be here soon."

"Patrick?"

"I've got to go and sort some hot water. I'll call the surgery again, see if he's there yet." Nurse Crane left the room as Shelagh groaned again, louder than before.

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"Nurse Crane. Is Mum alright?" Timothy asks from the doorway of the sitting room where he and his sister have stationed themselves.

"She's doing just fine, Master Turner. It always sounds a lot worse than it actually is." Nurse Crane lies with a smile. She doesn't want to tell the teenager the truth. That this is one of the harder labors she's ever seen.

"Could you boil the kettle for me while I use the telephone?"

Timothy nods, grateful to be of some help other than entertaining his little sister and keeping her occupied from asking about their mother.

Dialing the surgery, Phyllis tries to tamp down her annoyance at nobody being there to pick up the phone. She's about to hang up and dial Nonnatus House as she hears an even louder cry come from the bedroom, followed by her name. Timothy meets her in the hall, handing over the bowl of hot water as she hastily makes her way back into the bedroom.

"Something's not right. It shouldn't hurt this much, should it?" Shelagh asks, gritting her teeth.

"Let's take a look." Nurse Crane throws on a glove, her eyes wide as she examines her. "Well, love. It hurts because you're fully dilated and I can feel Baby's head. Let's get you a little more comfortable in position, and then I daresay you can start pushing."

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Patrick Turner isn't sure how many laws he's broken in his rush to get home, but he's certain it's more than a fair few. Pulling up to his home, he notices Nurse Crane's car as well as a midwife's bicycle. He can't recall seeing which name had been on the callboard, he only knew he had to make it back to his wife. Throwing the car into park and leaving his bag on the front seat, he slams the car door before barging into his home.

"Shelagh!" he called as he ran down the hallway towards his bedroom, following the growing cries of his wife.

"I'm sorry! I'm here! I'm so sorry!" He threw open the door, freezing in the entrance as he took in the tableau in front of him. Nurse Crane kneeling at the foot of his bed, Sister Julienne on the edge and his wife lying on her side, panting through the end of a contraction.

"Patrick!" Shealgh reached out her free hand, motioning for her husband who wasted no time in climbing onto his side of the bed and grasping it.

"It's about time you showed up! We were about to send out the RAF looking for you." Nurse Crane admonished with a smile, going back to focusing on her task.

"I'm so sorry. I was out with Nurse Gilbert at a delivery when I saw your name on the callboard at Nonnatus." He kissed his wife on her forehead, noticing Sister Julienne out of the corner of his eye.

"Sister." He nodded in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here." His tone was even, but everyone could feel the tension brimming beneath his words.

"I came to offer my assistance." She smiled, patting Shelagh's hand as she let go. "I'm going to take my leave now that your husband is here, Shelagh."

Shelagh took her hand back. "Don't go."

Nurse Crane interjected, sensing the awkwardness of the situation. "How about you go and sit with the children, Sister? I'm sure Master Turner could use an ally against the little one right about now."

"If that's alright with you, Doctor Turner?" Sister Julienne asked, hoping he would understand what she was really asking him for. Forgiveness.

"Thank you, Sister. I'm sure Timothy will appreciate the company. And Angela will, as well." He answered, his features softening.

Sister Julienne smiled gratefully at him, nodding as she stood up and began to exit the room as Shelagh's cries grew in intensity once more. Shutting the door behind herself, she leaned against the wall for a moment clutching her cross and sending up a prayer of thanks and mercy.

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"Sister!" Angela cried from the sofa, abandoning her baby doll to run to the nun.

"Hello, my dear." Sister Julienne bent down to hug the little girl, her eyes brimming with tears at the immediate acceptance of her presence with no questions asked. Sister Julienne stood then, making eye contact with Timothy.

"Hello, Timothy. It's good to see you."

Timothy stood, extending his hand. His parents wouldn't want him to be rude. "Hello, Sister Julienne."

Julienne isn't sure if it's her imagination or if he's actually grown taller, but his resemblance to his father strikes her almost speechless.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought I would keep the two of you company. Perhaps give you a little break?" She smiled, nodding her head towards Angela.

Timothy breathes out, the tension leaving his shoulders at her words. "Thank you, Sister. Shall I make some tea?"

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"Baby's head is crowning, Shelagh. Don't push too hard now, little breaths please."

Shelagh huffed as she squeezed her husband's hand, his fingers turning white as she cut off his circulation.

"That's it, my love. Almost there. Then you'll have our son in your arms."

Shelagh scoffed at him. "You mean our daughter." She mumbled through gritted teeth.

"There we go! Head is delivered. Now you're going to feel Baby turning, and on the next contraction you push as hard as you can."

Shelagh took a deep breath, gathering her strength and letting out a guttural moan.

The next sound to pierce the room was a high pitched cry, followed by the mewling sound of a newborn.

Shelagh's body sagged as the baby began to cry, her energy completely worn out.

"Oh, Shelagh!" Patrick kissed her forehead, tears flowing down his cheeks. "You did wonderful, my love."

Nurse Crane had just finished clamping the umbilical cord before holding out the scissors to Doctor Turner. "Would father like to do the honors?" she asked, smiling at him. Patrick cut the cord, unable to see if the baby was a boy or girl as Nurse Crane had wrapped it in a towel.

Gathering the newborn as soon as Doctor Turner had finished, she stood up and gently passed the baby over to Shelagh's waiting arms.

"Well, Mrs. Turner...it seems you won't have to worry about Baby's wardrobe for some time. Seeing as Sister Monica Joan has made you plenty of items to keep this little lady nice and warm."

Shelagh smiled at Nurse Crane before catching her husband's eye and laughing.

"I told you, dearest."

Patrick smiled at his wife, kissing her forehead before turning his attention to his daughter.

"Yes...yes you did."


	15. Chapter 15

The third stage had taken it's time to arrive, much like the newborn currently asleep in her mother's arms. Nurse Crane fluttered around the room, repacking bags and setting things to rights as the new parents sat close together at the head of the bed.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Shelagh breathed out, gently brushing a finger over her daughter's cheek.

"Just like her Mummy." Patrick whispered into her ear, earning a tired grin from his wife. "Can Daddy have a cuddle?"

"Of course he can." Shelagh leaned towards him, arms outstretched as he deftly took hold of his daughter for the first time. The baby fluttered her eyelashes at the movement, opening her eyes for a moment and taking her father's breath away in the process.

"Hello, Princess." He breathed, tracing her nose and lips, both of which she got from her mother, before softly stroking the crown of her head. Covered in a downy layer of dark hair, he realized that if that's the only trait she inherits from him, it wouldn't matter. She was beautiful, the spitting image of his wife. This was what he'd dreamed of when they were first married. A child equal parts himself and his wife. But when Angela came to them, he never thought he could have more love in his life. Until now.

"I'm going to have another Daddy's girl on my hands, aren't I?" Shelagh asked, leaning her chin on her husband's shoulder and watching his first interactions with their child.

Patrick smirked, employing one of his wife's favorite responses. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Shelagh rolled her eyes at him as Nurse Crane cleared her throat.

"Well then, now that's all settled, it's about time for me to make my exit. I'll have Nurse Franklin come by in the morning for your checks, but if you have need of anything in the meantime, just give a call."

"Thank you, Nurse Crane."

"Oh Shelagh, do call me Phyllis- I think we're well-acquainted enough now." She smirked at her and started to make her way to the door before turning around. "I'm just going to pop these into my car and I'll be back for Sister Julienne's bag."

"Oh, Patrick will take care of that, Nurse Crane. You go on ahead."

Nurse Crane nodded, seeing herself out of the flat and headed back to Nonnatus House.

"Shelagh-"

"Patrick, it's our daughter's birthday. We were given a miracle tonight. Let's not have today tainted with feelings of anger." Shelagh said softly as she stroked the back of her daughters hand with her finger.

"But all those things she said-"

"Are in the past." She leveled her gaze at him. "Please, Patrick. Do this for me? You need to forgive so that we all can move on."

Patrick sighed, nodding at her and knowing that as usual, his wife was right. "Fine."

"Good." Shelagh leaned forward, holding her arms out to take the baby who snuffled at the exchange before nestling into her mother's chest. "Now, go ask Sister Julienne if she'll come over in the morning with Sister Monica Joan for introductions, and then bring the children back in with you. I'm sure they're anxious to meet their little sister before bedtime."

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Patrick, ever the dutiful husband, nodded before standing from the bed and making his way to the living room. Slowly opening the door, he smiled as he saw his children. Timothy was sitting in Patrick's armchair, textbook open on his lap but not really focusing on it while Angela was curled up on Sister Julienne's lap, half asleep.

"Daddy!" She cried out, being the first one to notice him.

Timothy was out of the armchair and standing in front of him in a flash. "Well?!"

"Mum and the baby are both fine."

"Praise the Lord." Sister Julienne smiled at him as Patrick turned his attention back to his son.

"Timothy, why don't you help Angela to put her pajamas on and then we can go see Mum and the baby."

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Timothy asked, his patience wearing thin.

"You'll just have to wait and see. You've held on this long, surely a few more minutes won't hurt. Angela, say goodnight to Sister Julienne."

"Night night" the little girl hugged the nun before holding her arms out to her brother to be picked up.

After the children had left, Patrick and Julienne stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"Congratulations, Doctor Turner."

"Thank you, Sister. And thank you for keeping the children occupied...and for helping Shelagh. My wife tells me you were a great comfort today."

"I am glad. Thank you...for letting me stay. It was wonderful to see the children."

"Yes...Angela has missed you."

She smiled sadly. "And I her." Julienne paused, considering where to begin. "Doctor, I owe you an apology. Or rather, several months of apologies, if not more. I had no right to say any of the terrible things I did, or to have caused such turmoil and distress over this blessed event. I-"

Patrick cut her off.

"Sister, my wife and I have been granted a miracle today. Let's leave the past where it belongs-the past." He handed her the bag he was holding as she smiled gratefully at him. "Shelagh's very tired, and I'm sure we've got a long first night ahead of us, but she has asked if you would come by tomorrow with Sister Monica Joan? To meet the baby?"

A bright smile came across her face. "Of course. We will bring over some lunch for you all. And cake- if there's any left. Perhaps Sister will leave the tin alone if she knows who it's for.

"Thank you, Sister." He followed her down the hall to the front door where she stopped and turned to ask "Shall we bring over the clothes Sister Monica Joan has knitted as well?"

Patrick knew what she was asking and decided not to keep her in suspense until tomorrow. 'Yes, I think you should." He smiled, his eyes alight with happiness.

Sister Julienne nodded, tears evident in her smile. "See you tomorrow, then. Congratulations."

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Shutting the front door and making his way back to the hallway, he found both of his children standing outside the door to his bedroom, impatiently awaiting their entry.

"Come here, Angel." he took his daughter from Timothy's arms and knocked on the door. "Ready?"

"Come in..." came the tired Scottish lilt of his wife.

Patrick opened the door and watched as his son walked in slowly, immediately aware of his mother's exhaustion.

"Come on in, it's alright." Shelagh encouraged softly, patting the edge of the bed as Timothy sat down and Patrick stood next to him with a curious Angela.

Shelagh sat forward a little, moving the blanket from the baby's face as she spoke.

"Timothy, Angela...we'd like you to meet your little sister."


	16. Chapter 16

"She's so tiny." Tim whispered, leaning closer to get a better view of the newest little Turner.

"Baby!" Angela squealed as she pointed at the mewling pile of blankets in her mother's arms.

"Yes, Angel. That's the baby." Patrick whispered, kissing her temple. "You've got a little sister.

"Timothy? Do you want to hold her?"

"Can I?"

"Of course. Come closer, there we go." Shelagh leaned toward her son, making sure he had the baby's head supported before passing her over. "Meet your big brother, little one."

Timothy cuddled the infant close to his chest as she nuzzled into the fleece of his dressing gown, making noises of contentment as she slept.

"She's got Dad's hair...poor kid." He shared a smirk with his mother, both of them giggling at Patrick's face when they teased him.

"Baby hold!"

Shelagh smiled, holding her arms out. "Come here, Angel. We have to be quiet while she sleeps."

"Shelagh, I don't think..."

"Patrick, put her down here next to me. Angela has just as much right to hold her little sister as the rest of us."

"Here, Dad. You take her." Timothy handed the baby over to his father as Angela cuddled up to Shelagh's side.

"Okay, Angel. Put your arms out like Mummy and you can hold the baby. Good job." He placed the baby into Angela's outstretched arms, while in actuality it was Shelagh holding her. Patrick wished he'd taken the camera from the maternity home as he watched his daughter's eyes widen in amazement as she 'held' her little sister.

"Hi baby." Angela giggled.

Timothy looked up at his father before whispering "Dad? Does she have a name or are we just going to keep calling her 'Baby'?"

His mother and father chuckled before Patrick responded.

"Well, we have a few ideas-but we haven't made a decision yet. The most important thing right now is for Mum and your sister to get some rest."

"Perhaps in the morning..." Shelagh smiled as her voice began to taper off.

"Do you need anything, Mum? Tea or something to eat? I can-"

"No, thank you Timothy. I think Baby and I are going to sleep for a bit. You get some rest, dearest. And thank you for taking care of your sister tonight." Shelagh placed a kiss on top of Angela's head as Timothy stood from the bed to gather his sister and head off to bed.

"Do you want me to take her, Shelagh?" Patrick sat down next to her as she nodded.

"She needs a name, Patrick."

He glanced down at the sleeping child before turning to his wife. "I liked-" he paused immediately, as she had fallen asleep, her hand outstretched covering his arm. "We'll discuss it later."

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Two feeds, a nappy change and half a cup of tea later and a knock sounded at the front door. It was only half eight, but the Turners immediately knew who was at the door.

"Midwife calling." came a whisper from the doorway as Trixie Franklin's head came into view.

"Good morning, Trixie."

"Morning...oh Shelagh, I'm so sorry about yesterday!"

"Don't be silly, Trixie. There's nothing to be sorry for. We're both fine, albeit exhausted." Shelagh smiled at her friend, patting the edge of the bed and holding out her arm, already knowing the post-birth checkup routine.

"Well, everything is splendid with Mummy. Now, where is that baby who caused such a commotion yesterday?"

"Patrick took her into the living room for a bit while I slept after her last feed. I'm sure-"

"Her?! A girl!" Trixie practically bounced in excitement.

"Yes, Nurse Franklin. Timothy and I have been outnumbered." Patrick smirked, walking into the bedroom with the wide-awake infant. "And it seems as though someone is ready to meet you."

Trixie stood from the bed, arms outstretched to greet her newest patient.

"Well hello, young madam. Aren't you a beauty?" she cooed as she placed her onto the bed next to Shelagh and began her routine exam. Patrick and Shelagh watched over the proceedings with a professional eye until Trixie finished, a smile on her face as she cuddled the baby. "I must say, she's quite well behaved for such a little troublemaker."

"If you'd been here at three o'clock this morning you might have a different opinion..." Patrick yawned as Shelagh elbowed him in the ribs.

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"You were incorrect in your assumptions of me, Doctor Turner. My horoscope was correct and I am proved the victor." Sister Monica Joan said cheekily, staring at the baby in Shelagh's arms and reaching out to stroke the tiny hand.

"My apologies for doubting you, Sister Monica Joan."

"I'm afraid the rest of the staff is already plotting on when they can invade your good graces and meet this little angel." Sister Julienne whispered, smiling as Angela perked up from the floor. She was sitting with her doll, holding it the same way as Shelagh, doing her best to imitate her mother for most of the day.

"Perhaps tomorrow we could take-"

"Shelagh, we've discussed this."

"I know, but-"

"No buts."

Shelagh glared at her husband. If any two words annoyed her since her pregnancy, it was those. And Patrick knew it, softening his next response.

"I'm sorry, but you and Victoria aren't leaving this house for a few days yet. You had a very hard labor and you need time to rest."

Sister Julienne perked up as Patrick spoke. "Victoria?"

Sharing a glance with his wife as soon as he realized his slip-up, he smiled as she shook her head at him.

"Yes. Victoria Grace." Shelagh responded, cooing at the infant who was starting to wake.

"A beautiful name for one of the Lord's most wanted miracles." Sister Monica Joan decreed.

"I hear you've been knitting up a storm, Sister."

Tearing her attention from the tiny hand clutching her finger, she blinked at Shelagh before responding. "Yes. I have acquired some of the finest wool for this little beauty."

Patrick shared a glance with his wife, a silent question of whether or not to accept possibly stolen wool, before Sister Julienne responded.

"Yes. Mrs. Buckle was kind enough to place a special order for Sister Monica Joan." She shared a secret smile with the Turners, all of them knowing the unspoken question that hung in the air.

"Well then, perhaps you'd like to have a little cuddle while Patrick makes some tea."

Neither Patrick nor Sister Julienne could remember the last time they'd seen Sister Monica Joan hold a newborn baby, or any baby for that matter. But the look of pure joy on her face as Shelagh leaned forward to place the baby in her arms quickly dispelled any concerns they may have had.

"Hello, little one. I can see from your eyes that you hold quite the capacity for intelligence, perhaps you will be able to enlighten us all."

Her focus on the baby was so intent, that she didn't notice the smiles from the other three adults in the room.


End file.
